Blood Soaked
by Midnathething
Summary: Being shot had not been a part of her evening plans, but neither had being saved by the doctor. Well, Lydia's always approved of taking the hand you're dealt and making it work. Serial Killer/Doctor


**Author's Note: So I wanted to make another Town of Salem fic and this idea popped into my head. I seem to have accidentally written a Yandere though... The idea seemed cute at the time?**

 **I don't own Town of Salem, otherwise I'd probably have much more money than I do now.**

 **-Midnathething**

"I'm a lookout," James Russel declared, clear voice ringing through-out the town square. "And I _saw_ Lydia visit Sewall."

Lydia looked at the dead mafioso and then Russel, her expression morphing into one of horror. "Are you attempting to imply that _I'm_ the serial killer?"

Russel frowned at her, his tone cool. "I saw you visit Sewall and now he's dead by the serial killer's hand. I have no love for the mafia but that's pretty incriminating."

She shook her head. "That's impossible, I'm a doctor and I didn't leave my house yesterday." Now to plant the seed of doubt... "How do we know that you aren't an executioner, anyhow?"

The town's people began murmuring quietly, not sure who to believe. Right now, all they had was one person's word against another's. Lydia suspected that was what was keeping her from being hung. Eventually, the decision was made to wait and see what happened that night. If someone else found Lydia to be suspicious, she would be hung tomorrow.

John Proctor frowned at the woman, hand twitching towards his empty belt. She wondered what the ex-militia captain was thinking, nervously remembering that he'd lost his position for his violent methods.

As it began to get dark everyone returned to their homes.

. . .

 _'Who to kill...?'_ Lydia wondered, silently slipping through the shadows of the streets. While her first urge was to kill James for calling her out it would be too obvious... John Proctor, maybe? He had looked like he was up to something. _'Yes, Proctor needs to go...'_

She began to creep towards his house, hand creeping towards her first-aid kit. Owning one helped her claims of being a doctor quite a bit and it was a convenient place to keep her knife.

There was a sudden noise, the sound of a gun's safety being turned off. Lydia spun to face the sound, her eyes widening. "Wha-"

There was a loud noise and pain and Lydia hit the ground, her first-aid kit tumbling from her hands. The sharp smell of metal filled the air and Lydia realized it was blood. The woman's stomach flipped and she was glad that she hadn't eaten yet. Seeing and smelling the blood of others - her victims - was completely different from this, from seeing her own blood spilling onto the cobblestones.

The woman's eyes drifted to the shadows, barely making out the vague figure of a man. John Proctor's face briefly appeared in the moonlight as the man turned away and retreated to his home. _'Damn you, Proctor!'_ Lydia let her eyes flutter shut, accepting her fate.

But it never came. Instead, Lydia felt unexpectedly strong arms lift her limp body, carrying her. She was taken somewhere warmer and set on a cool table. There was a shuffling sound somewhere to her right before something cold, metal, and _painful_ entered the bullet wound, carefully removing the bullet. The wound was promptly cleaned and bandaged.

"Can you hear me, Lydia?" A familiar masculine voice asked, a hand resting lightly on her forehead.

The serial killer forced her heavy eyelids open, vision swimming. She gave what she hoped sounded like an affirmative noise. As her vision focused William Phips' face became clear. _'Why did he save me?'_ She wondered through the dull haze of pain. _'I was obviously enough the serial killer for Proctor to decide to shoot me.'_

"Good. Can you speak?"

"... I think so." Her voice was weak and her tongue felt like lead but there had been words. What was William doing?

The man seemed pleased by this. "Can you move your hands?" He paused before adding, "Don't try moving your arms yet, you may pull the injury open."

Lydia twitched her fingers, frowning when she realized how much effort it took. Why was he helping her? Didn't he think she was the serial killer?

"Alright, now your toes, if you please."

The serial killer complied, though her frown deepened. "Why?"

Seeing that her toes had moved, the doctor beamed. "It was unlikely given the location of the injury, but I wanted to make sure that there wasn't any nerve damage."

Lydia gave a quiet 'oh'. "I see..."

"Now," The doctor removed his gloves, tossing them aside, "I'm going to finish healing this. It may sting but that's normal, alright?"

She nodded, raising a surprised eyebrow when William began to murmur strange incantations under his breath. There was a flicker of pain that faded to a prickling of numbness, similar to a limb being asleep. Soon, the prickling faded too.

"There." The man sat heavily in a chair. "Better?"

Tentatively, Lydia moved to a sitting position. When the movement brought no pain she cautiously prodded near the wound. No pain. The serial killer smiled. "Yes, thank you."

William gave a tired smile. "I'll be completely honest; it's the healing magic that wears me out, not bringing the patient here in the first place."

And yet, he had healed her. _'Does he_ _ **not**_ _think I'm the serial killer, then? No sane person would have healed me knowing I was...'_ "Magic? Where did you learn magic?"

He laughed, and Lydia found that the sound was surprisingly pleasant. "I was taught a bit by the medium and a bit by the retributionist, but I've mastered most of it from self study."

There was a pause as neither of them were sure what to say.

"You know," William eventually spoke, "Most people are _much more_ upset when they discover that I know magic. Some have even threatened to kill me."

Briefly, Lydia wondered if he was attempting to tell her that he knew what she was, what she had done, but she shook off the thought. His face made it clear that he was telling the truth with no alternate intentions. The woman felt a surge of protective rage, angered by the _mere idea_ of someone threatening William. Especially after he had saved their life... "You saved my life, I owe you a debt I cannot ever repay. Why would I be angry with you?"

The doctor seemed surprised by this. "I haven't done anything you weren't capable of yourself, after all, you're a doctor too."

Lydia shook her head. "I don't know healing magic, and I'm certainly not a master in the medical field." The serial killer paused. "Do you think you could... Teach me more?"

William seemed surprised by the request. "If you'd like to learn, but some people may distrust you simply for knowing magic. I won't force you to face that if you don't want to."

"But I do want to learn! Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked." She'd have slipped a knife between his ribs instead.

And, surprisingly enough, this thought filled her with dread. She couldn't kill William now, not after what he had done for her. In fact, the idea of killing was anyone was becoming less appealing...

"Alright, then I can start teaching you when the mafia and serial killer have been dealt with." The doctor answered with a surprisingly warm smile.

 _'He really doesn't know!'_ Lydia ignored the chill that his words had sent down her spine and smiled. "When the mafia and serial killer are gone."

She glanced at the sky and jumped. She had been with William for far longer than she had thought, the moon was setting and it would soon be dawn. "I need to go now, but it was nice to speak with you, William."

She got to her feet and began to move towards the door, pausing when he called a quick goodbye. She smiled and returned the action.

There was business to attend to.

. . .

Finding her first-aid kit had been a quick matter, and sneaking into John Proctor's house was even easier. The man had gone to sleep, convinced that he was safe after shooting her. Lydia allowed a vicious smile to form. She silently slipped into the man's room, eyeing him balefully. "Should have had better aim..."

The knife was forced into his chest, angled to strike both heart and lung. Proctor was dead before he'd realized what happened.

"It would have been too suspicious if you shot me and no one died, but look at it this way," Lydia began to carefully clean the blood from her knife, "Once Russel is dead the killings will stop."

He was, after all, the only remaining threat to a quiet life as a doctor with William.

 **Roles; Lydia Dustin is the Serial Killer, Samuel Sewall was the** **Mafioso, John Proctor is the Vigilante, James Russel is the Lookout, and William Phips is the Doctor. Some of these names have the same roles in my other Town of Salem fic, but it's up to the readers if they're the same characters or not. It is also up to the readers if Lydia get's away with her crimes and settles down as a doctor.**

 **Something to mention: Yes, the doctor uses magic. I figure this doesn't contradict canon because other playable roles are the retributionist; who _brings people back from the dead_ , the medium; who speaks with the dead, the jester; who kills someone who voted guilty on lynching them, and the witch; who uses _magic_ to control people. It's also weird that whoever was attacked is perfectly fine the next day if they're healed by doc. Therefore, Doc. knowing magic doesn't seem like too much of a stretch. **

**The title for this story was inspired by the Invest. quote: Your target is covered in blood. They could be a Doctor, Serial Killer, or Vampire.**


End file.
